


Barba Non Facit Philosophum

by naegiriko



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Innuendo, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naegiriko/pseuds/naegiriko
Summary: A nerd and a charmer in Nuka-World = a recipe for disaster.





	Barba Non Facit Philosophum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danithemani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/gifts).



> slight AU because this is two sole survivors meeting. don't even ask me to explain why there are two pre-war men here, bc i can't. Ronnie is my baby, Danny is danithemani's.

Ronnie’s fixing some last adjustments on the new barrel of his Gauss rifle in Nuka-Town when he feels a presence swell behind him. He watches the shadow of the man fold out in front of him, long and dark. 

A honeyed voice interrupts the intricate circuitry work he’s doing and his hands falter, causing sparks to arc over the ports of the rifle.

“Hello, Mr. Overboss?”

He’s big and dark, with olive skin, and long, powerful nose. He towers a couple inches over Ronnie, and he’s wider, too. His hips sway slightly, a swagger in every inch of his body. Even his lips are curled in a grin. He’s the kind of man that would’ve triggered a full body dysmorphic episode for Ronnie in college, but he’s found his own now. He may still be small, but his head is higher now, his body rigid, more wiry. Ronnie stands his ground.

Blue eyes narrow under wire frames. “Do I have business with you?”

“No, but I have business with you. You, and everybody in Nuka-World.”

This is clearly a power play. Why is everyone in the Commonwealth so damned Machiavellian? Ronnie takes a moment to process this man, scanning him for any signs of weakness, a chink in his metaphorical armor. He looks gay, that’s for sure, but if there’s one major change in the Commonwealth it’s that anything goes. Ronnie thinks about how much better his adolescence would’ve been if that were the case pre-war. 

His hawk eyes zone in on the familiar yellow tin of Mentats. Bingo.

“Oh, you’re a drug dealer. I’m good, thanks. I’m smart enough without all those toxins.” 

He turns his back and tries to focus on tuning his weapon again.

The man chuckles. It’s a warm laugh, not one of someone’s who’s trying to manipulate. It surprises Ronnie, and something inside makes him want to turn around again.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down now. I’m not trying to peddle anything. I think your brain would probably explode if you took these anyway.” He shakes the tin of Mentats playfully. “I just wanted to introduce myself to the new player here in Nuka-World.”

Ronnie wants to hate him, but there’s a spark somewhere. Some kind of similarity between the two he can’t quite put his finger on.

“And what is your job around here, other than interrupting people’s work?”

“I’m the Raider Daddy of Nuka-World,” he says proudly.

Ronnie blinks dumbly.

“You’re what?”

“I take care of these little psychopaths. You think they could survive on their own without a sweet, loving papa like me? Well, you’re dead wrong.”

For the first time in a long time, Ronnie lacks a sassy and cutting remark.

“But...what do you actually do?”

The large man smiles, scratching at the dark hair on his tanned face.

“You know, run jobs, keep ‘em fed, organize settlements, do all the negotiations they’re too barbaric for, raise morale…”

For some reason Ronnie doesn’t want to ask what “raising morale” entails.

“Gage never mentioned me? Goddamn, I must be doing something wrong.”

“I don’t associate with Porter Gage.”

“That’s too bad, we coulda made it a threesome,” Danny grins.

Ronnie boils.

“That will never happen,” he says sharply. A hearty laugh barrels out of Danny, amused by the kid and the long stick up his ass.

“God, you’re fuckin’ hilarious. And hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work or nothin’. I’m just used to these knuckleheads trying to work on weapon mods and then giving up. But it looks like you’ve got a real knack for it.”

Ronnie absorbs the compliment and glows with pride, but he still feels played, buttered up. He wants to trust this guy for some reason--why does he feel like they could have great conversations? But he seems sleazy. And Ronnie doesn’t trust men with silver tongues. 

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Overboss.” 

He gives a coquettish little wave, his eyes are green like a radstorm and there’s a mischevious glint in his eyes when he says,  
“And hey, I already know your name. No need to tell me.”

Ronnie blinks, caught up in a whirlwind.


End file.
